


Euphonious

by g0bliin



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: BDSM, Choking, Church Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Porn With Plot, Shibari, Smut, dont worry it'll get switched up, hubert is a dom most of the time, hubie just likes to be rough, itll also be switch povs, mercie is sub most of the time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2020-10-29 15:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20798747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g0bliin/pseuds/g0bliin
Summary: After a mishap regarding an obscene book in Mercedes' possession, Hubert suggests that they partake in a similar relationship.(Slow Updates)





	1. Prologue

Hubert’s fist seized a handful of her thick, strawberry blond locks, a breathy groan escaping his lips when he tightened the grip. His little bird cried out her song of distress, sensing her body wincing beneath him. The sight of her writhing about only furthered his desires. 

“No matter how much you sob, weep, scream for mercy; no breathing soul will seek you out - not even the Goddess can hear you.” He reminded her, leaning forward to inhale her sweet aroma. Honeysuckle and fear clung to her body like a leech. 

Perfect, just the way he wanted her. 

“I know that. You remind me every time that we meet, Hubert.” Mercedes’ eyes narrowed, the defiance in them hiding her pain. 

His grip loosened - slightly, leaning his face enough that their lips were mere centimeters apart. The urge to kiss her right then and there tempted him, but decided against it. Gentle romances were always to be saved after their rough play. 

Rule number one it was, they both agreed to it at the start. 

“Sometimes you forget that I have all the power, my little bird,” he crooned, forcing her head to jerk upwards. “I can’t let you out of your steel cage yet.” His teeth scraped against the soft flesh before biting down on her favorite spot.

She thanked him with a stifled gasp, her doll-like eyes rolling back in bliss. 

Who knew that devout church girls could provide the best kind of submissive play?


	2. The Usual?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feast well, my children. Take the grains of lust from my palms and let it nourish you.

A sudden force gripped Mercedes by the shoulders. Hot breath tickled the lobe of her ear, his lips so close to her skin that she could feel them mouth the words he whispered.

_ “I need you.”  _ Hubert’s voice was hoarse.

She did not respond. A nod of her head was sufficient, and she would join him momentarily in his dorm. He left her alone in the dining hall, his pace quick as he spirited away.

The pattern was always the same; Hubert planned each step to form a well-oiled machine. Secrecy was the key to keeping their relationship hidden from public view. Perhaps, if things were different, they could be more open about each other - what was on the surface level, at least.

He would walk into his dorm first, leaving the wooden door slightly ajar. Exactly four minutes later, she would follow suit with careful ease, her head always held up high and pretending that she was not on the brink from anticipation.

No one would be suspicious of just two students enjoying each other’s company. It was a common occurrence at the academy. If one listened in, however, there would be cause for alarm. Then again, no one dared to approach Hubert’s dorm, let alone have the gall to spy on him.

She cleaned up her dishes, careful to take her time. Her hands trembled, hardly noticeable to others around her.

Their secretive meetings had become part of her routine. One would have thought she would be able to foresee how they would go - and, in a sense, she did have an idea - the nature, what would eventually happen.

But Hubert was always unpredictable.

That was what unnerved her, what kept her in such a state of apprehension. Mercedes only knew that he would never stretch beyond their limitations - just enough to satisfy himself, and her own masochistic desires.

She gently stowed the dishes, wary of her trembling. Counting the seconds, she walked out of the dining hall towards his dorm. The night air was calming as always with the scent of the sea drifting through the breeze.

It eased her growing nerves as each step brought her closer to him. He sounded almost desperate when he approached her. Her heart fluttered, nearly leaping out of her chest.

Hubert…  _ needed  _ her.  


Someone  _ actually needed _ her. Beyond a favor, beyond the battlefield. It was wonderful to be needed, despite it being only for selfish reasons.

She would have to warn him about leaving too many bruises this time. Annette had noticed one forming on her wrist the other day and inquired about it.

Mercedes climbed up the stairs, now counting the footsteps it took to Hubert’s dorm.

_ Thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four… _ She was in front of his door. The door was left ajar, like usual. A lamp shone bright through the crack, its shadow reaching towards her feet.

_ Thirty-five. _

Mercedes entered his dorm without knocking, shutting the door behind her. It clicked, locking her in with him.

Hubert was sitting at his desk, quill pen vigorously scribbling away against a piece of parchment. Finishing his last sentence, he placed the quill back on the inkpot, relaxing in his chair. His head leaned back, resting on the top of the chair with eyelids half-open.

She remained still, biting her lower lip.

Hubert would make the first move. He always did.

His head turned just enough for one, steely vulpine eye to stare her down. “Come here.”

She obeyed, her boots creaking on the hardwood floor. In one swift motion, he lifted her on his lap, his torso between her thighs. His fox eyes gazed through her, a profound hunger within his irises, before they lowered to her blouse. Gloved fingers made their way up her chest and untied her shawl, letting it drop to the floor.

“Soon it will be too warm to wear such a thing,” he commented, moving his fingers downward to unbutton her blouse. “It’ll be easier to unravel you from your many layers.”

“I like wearing it,” she shot back meekly. It always felt awkward being undressed in such a manner, but he liked to do it. Taking the time to undress her one by one seem oddly comforting to Hubert. Except for the first time, he had always been keen on removing her clothing. “The same can be said about your gloves.”

“My gloves have a different purpose than your shawl.”

“Still...” Mercedes gently grabbed his left hand, sliding the glove off. His thumb trailed down from her cheekbone to her jawline. “When summer comes, your hands are going to get all sweaty.”

Hubert’s lips twitched at the corners. “I’ll be quite alright. The heat does not bother me.” Mercedes was about to speak when his bare hand was placed on her throat, his thumb now pressing on her jugular. “Enough idle chatter now.”

She silenced herself as if singled out in mass. The other glove was removed from his hand, and his fingers once more returned to unbuttoning her blouse until her breasts were fully exposed. His face twisted in annoyance at the sight of her bra.

Instead of unlatching it for her, Hubert did the more gentlemanly deed and pulled out his dagger from his right boot. He lifted the cloth away from her breasts, bringing the blade underneath the bridge of cloth separating the two cups before jerking it up in a careful, swift motion. The dagger was then placed back in its slot in his boot.

If she was given permission to speak, she would have told him that his impatience was going to put him in debt for how many undergarments he owed her. Instead she settled for scowling - letting her eyes express her disdain.

“You know you like that just as much as I do, pet,” Hubert reminded her, tugging the remaining scraps of her bra off her chest to the floor. Her blouse soon followed and she was left with torso bare to the room’s cool air.

He swallowed at the sight of her breasts, sucking in air. He never seemed to get used to the sight of her. No matter how many times they met, it was always a shock to see the canvas of wounds on her body. A faded bite mark was angled on her throat for concealment. Bruises new and old riddled her arms. On the little pudge of her stomach was another bite mark - a fresh-made leftover from last night’s engagement.

For a moment, she averted her gaze, a faint flush forming on her cheeks. Goosebumps crept across her flesh against the chill of the dorm room, Mercedes bit her lip once more in anticipation for what he would do next.

His hands came to rest on her waist and nudged her body closer so the gap between his face and her breasts would shrink. He then rested his head between her breasts, snuggling into her with a heavy sigh.

“You have the most perfect breasts,” he mumbled. She wasn’t sure if she heard his words right, but she wouldn’t press him on the matter.

The action caught her off guard. Hubert was usually not this gentle. And never this early on in their sessions. By now, he would be buried deep within her, taking out all of his daily frustrations.  


Mercedes didn’t mind his tenderness. In fact, she embraced it with open arms. These moments were rare between them. While he unraveled her clothing, she was chipping away the dark, brooding personality Hubert had created for himself.

Beyond the overzealous, loyal servant of Edelgard, he was human. And like all humans he had character, wit, and plans and hopes for the future. In spite of the vast differences they had, they both had a common goal: to build a world that would be better than the one they grew up in.

Men and women had often sought her affections because of her Crest. A minor Crest, but that was all the same to them. For many, a Crest was nothing more than a ticket to increasing social status.

For Mercedes, it was a curse. The only moments where she could forget about her Crest, was when she was with Hubert. He didn’t have one, nor did he really seem to care about her own.

They had accepted one another for who they were as people.

Left on her dresser was another marriage proposal from her adoptive father that was snuck inside a letter from her mother. She tore up the letter without reading its contents, like the last two he had sent. They all repeated the same words, telling her about some rich merchant or low-class noble inquiring about marriage.

Her dreams of working for the church had dissolved bit by bit, until she finally would succumb to her adoptive father’s demands. Mercedes glimpsed down at Hubert. _Perhaps_… No_._ She ought to not think such ludicrous things.

Her fingers ran through his hair, searching for the one spot he loved.

He held her for some time. The wall he built around himself had crumbled, and he allowed himself the privilege to be soothed by her. She felt his body loosen, shoulders finally relaxing from their usual constant tension.

Helping others was a passion, and in a sense, these sessions must be helping him. And her.

A long, frustrated sigh suddenly came from him. “Mercedes?”

“Yes, Hubert?” She peered down at him.

“I am currently faced with a dilemma, and I’d like your input on what I should do.” He raised his head from her chest, smoothing back his messy bangs.

“I don’t know if I can really help you if I don’t know the full context, but I can try my best.” She smiled, tucking a stray lock behind his ear.

Hubert leaned back in the chair, once again eyeing Mercedes. However this time he was staring at her skirt. He lifted it up and moved his hand towards her undergarments, gently petting her sex through the fabric. She let out a small gasp as her fingernails dug into his thighs.

“I have to write a letter to an important minister in the Empire regarding some business,” he explained as his fingers slid under her panties, stroking her clit. “Of course, I’ve prepared a few sentences, but I rather not spend the rest of the evening on it.  _ However,  _ I must finish it tonight, as it must be sent out in the morning.”

“Y-yes, continue,” she panted out. Her cheeks were heated, her breath raspy. A sly smirk was painted on his face as he removed his fingers from her, bringing them to her lips. He shot up his eyebrows, imploring her to clean them off. She obeyed, of course, and began to suck.

“The problem is that I want to...  _ carouse _ with my little bird. She sings such sweet melodies when I do, and I believe listening to her would be far superior to writing letters.” He tilted his head, using his free hand to tweak her nipple. She held in a squeak, continuing to suck. “What do you think, pet?”

Mercedes stopped, removing his fingers from her mouth. He cupped her breasts and squeezed them lightly. This was another one of his games. Either answer she chose will have her end up with Hubert toying with her.

“Finish the letter. Then  _ carouse with your bird _ ,” she teased him, mimicking his voice. “I don’t want you to be distracted from state business. That sort of thing comes before any kind of play we do.”

He let out a dry laugh. “I suppose you are correct in that manner, but..” Before she was able to respond he pressed his lips to hers, enveloping her in a deep kiss. It sent a pleasant warmth throughout her body. She kissed back, wrapping her arms around his neck. His teeth scraped against her lips as her tongue slid in his mouth, flirting with his own.

He broke the kiss, both of them panting heavily. “I did say I needed you tonight.”

After unbuttoning his trousers, his cock was released, nudging itself against her. She lifted herself up, parting her panties aside as she took in his entire length with ease, settling down back on his lap. A moan escaped her lips, feeling him twitch inside of her. Hubert snatched a handful of her hair - one of his favorite activities - and forced her head to tilt upward.

He began to thrust upward in slow, rough rolls. Her back collided with the desk as he thrusted, his head once again burying itself in her breasts. Mercedes let out a cry when he sunk his teeth into her flesh.

“Cover your mouth, little bird, or someone will hear you,” Hubert warned her.

“Don’t bite me so hard then!” She hissed back, hiding a small smile.

His eyes glanced up at her for a moment before he returned to the bite mark, grazing his teeth over it as he bit it harder. His thrusts molded into a punishing rhythm as she held onto his desk for support, his fingers digging into the soft plush of her thigh, forcing her hips to be even closer.

Mercedes’ whole body was flushed and coated in sweat, her mind set deep in a pleasurable space, and if she was able to form a coherent sentence, she’d swear a thousand times over how she loved Hubert’s cock.

He now was standing up, pushing her body so that she was entirely on his desk. The desk chair had toppled over to its side from the sudden force. For a second Mercedes thought she heard the ink bottle topple over. However, when his thumb began to stroke her clit in tandem with his pounding, all coherent thoughts faded away.

It was a miracle no one had heard either of them groaning like animals in heat - much less the wet, squelching noise that echoed throughout the room every time their flesh met.

Her eyes fluttered as she cocked her head back, bucking her hips to match his movements. Groping her breast, Hubert leaned forward. Their eyes met, and she lifted her head up to kiss him.

He panted. “Would you like to cum for me, pet?”

“Yes...please!” She cried out. His face was smug, and before she could realize it, he had stopped strumming her clit.

“You have to beg for it. With  _ very _ -” he thrusted hard to punctuate, causing her to shudder, “ _ very  _ vulgar language.”

Yet another game. Hubert knew how much she hated (or loved), talking dirty. At this point, morals didn’t matter. It paled in comparison to the budding urge to climax. “Hubert-”

“Lord Vestra.” He corrected her. His cheshire smile was wide across his face, pleased that he once again had her cornered.

“L-Lord Vestra,” Mercedes stammered. Her vision dulled in the corners. The blurred light around Hubert almost created an aura, as if he had become a saint. She was so overwhelmed with pleasure that time was sluggish. “Please allow this...humble servant to climax. I beg of you, please have mercy on me!”

He shook his head, lips pursed. “I said to  _ beg.  _ Perhaps this will persuade you.” His thumb strummed her clit once more, each stroke was as rough as his thrusts. She was unable to hold back a low, husky moan. Her nails dug into palms.  _ This _ was going to send her overboard.

“Lord Vestra, please let me c-cum!” She cried out, wincing at the usage of “cum.”

“More.”

“I need to cum,” Mercedes whined, gritting her teeth. Her face turned even redder, trying to have the gumption to speak lewdly. “I am nothing but Lord Vestra’s warm, wet... _ hole.  _ I only live to serve you with my body. You have honored me- _ ah! - _ by allowing me to pleasure your cock. Please Hubert-” she dropped the name, breathless, “I c-can’t last much longer...”

“There’s a good girl.” Hubert’s voice was raspy.

His pacing slowed to longer, deeper thrusts, nearing the edge as well. As soon as she was given the grace, she gave once last final cry, drowning in a sea of ecstasy. His body tensed, hands gripping her thighs, releasing his seed within her amidst a satisfied groan.

Resting his head on her chest, he gave her right breast a final squeeze. She almost lifted her arm to rub his head, but noticed it covered in ink. “Oh, dear me.”

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows, spotting her arm. “Damn it. Get off of the desk.” She moved off of his desk, her thighs trembling as she stood while he hurriedly wiped off the inky mess with his gloves.

“Do you need my help?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“No, no. This is my fault. I should have moved the inkpot to a safer place.” Tossing the ruined the gloves, he huffed. “Clean yourself up. I can handle this.”

Without saying a word, Mercedes brushed her fingertips on the stained wood. In seconds the ink vanished, fully restoring the inkpot’s well. Additionally, her arm was clean.

“You couldn’t happen to remove the ink from my gloves?” He snickered.

She shrugged, picking up her shawl to cover her chest. “There wasn’t enough room for it. If you had another pot, I’d be happy to.”

“Wear one of my shirts.”

Mercedes nodded her head. She turned around, picking up her clothes to fold them into a neat pile. “Hubert?”

“Yes, Mercedes?”

“Your… thing is still out.”

Holding back a giggle, she smiled to herself, hearing disgruntled mumbling behind her, accompanied by the sound of Hubert struggling with the buttons of his trousers.

* * *

Hubert’s shirts were well made, tailored to perfection with breathable fabric and silkiness.

They were different from the shirts given out by the academy. While the academy’s were fine, his were far better. The sleeves hung off of her arms, and had to be rolled up to allow her the use of her hands. The hem reached her mid-thigh; however, it was still short enough that if she moved a certain way, her underwear would be shown.

While she wore his shirt, he wore his undershirt and boxers. Scars dotted his pale body like her bruises and bite mark.

Mercedes laid on her side, hugging his pillow as she stared at his backside. Hubert was in the midst of writing the letter, murmuring to himself as he wrote. His window sat ajar with the curtain draped over the glass.

The chirping of crickets lessened the silence in the dorm room. From the distance, the bells of the monastery rung, solemnly luring parishes to nighttime prayers. She would have attended with Annette tonight if Hubert did not request her to stay.

Neither of them had talked after their session. The only conversation they consisted of two sentences.

“Would you like to spend the night?” he asked tersely.

“I’d love to,” she replied, rolling up her sleeves.

Her neck throbbed from his bite mark, and her thighs ached. Yawning, Mercedes contemplated falling asleep. Her eyes were always half opened, and the bed was luring her to give in to exhaustion. She yawned again, snuggling the pillow closer.

“Do not fret. I will come to bed shortly, I’m almost finished with my letter.” Hubert said.

“I’m not  _ that _ tired,” she grumbled, finding it rather difficult to hold back a yawn.

He chortled, prompting Mercedes to glare at him - though hers were not as fierce. “You’ve been yawning this whole time. Don’t force yourself to stay awake for my sake.”

“Well too bad. Hurry up and come join me already!” Curiosity piqued within her. “What are you talking about in your letter?” She bit her lower lip, realizing how rude her question was. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal.”

Hubert paused his writing, inhaling. “I’m writing to the Marquis of Vestra, my father,” he paused again. “I was responding to a pathetic attempt at a marriage proposal.”

Her stomach filled with dread at the sound of his bitter words.

_ Of course _ .

Of course something like this would happen. Tears burned her eyes, threatening to spill out. Mercedes never seemed to learn her lesson. Happiness was a frail, fragile idea that she could never possess for long.

Why was she still here? She should just head back to her dorm.

“I rejected it, naturally. I have no wish to marry anyone at this moment.”

She threw her pillow at him, her sadness replaced with anger. “You could have just said that in the first place.”

The pillow hit his head, sinking unceremoniously to the floor with a soft flop. He did not flinch, and continued his writing unaffected.

“You beast!”

“A beast, yes. Nevertheless, I am a beast that keeps his promise. Did you forget what I said previously?” Hubert placed the quill back in the inkpot - which sat in a higher place than before - folding up the letter into thirds. Pulling open a drawer, he took out an envelope and a stick of dark, crimson wax. He placed the letter into the envelope, checking to make sure everything was in order before he snapped his fingers.

A small flame appeared on his index finger, dancing in the slight breeze coming in from the window. He hovered the wax stick over the envelope, the flame warming the wax so that it would drip onto the paper, sealing the letter within. He blew out the flame, grabbing his seal and pressed it onto the cooling wax.

During that time, Mercedes was about to boil over. How could he do that to her! While yes, she just  _ happened  _ to forget his promise, it was still a cruel jest, if it could even be considered one. Any girl would forget everything if her love had told her he was marrying another.

Taking in a deep breath, she slid herself out of bed gently, as to not inflame her aches. Grabbing the fallen pillow, she whacked him, harder this time. As she did, her vision went red, thunder echoing within her ears as the pillow made contact. “Excuse _me_!” she found herself blurting out. The force of her hit knocked him out of his chair. The pillow exploded into a cloud of feathers drifting around them, gathering at her feet.

“Oh my gosh, Hubert, are you okay?” She held out her hand for him to take. He took it, but remained silent, choosing instead to devote his attention to picking up the chair.

That...that had never happened to her. She never struck with such conviction unless she were facing a hated enemy on the field of battle. For it to happen when she was upset at Hubert... Her heart sank, panic welling up with her tears.

“I’m so sorry Hubert. I didn’t expect that to happen...that’s never happened to me before. I had no intention to hit you in that manner,” Mercedes babbled, wiping away a stray tear. Goddess, she hated crying.

“Now I know what happens when I push you over,” he commented curtly, assembling the scattered parchment on his desk back into tidy stacks. His face was neutral, a twinge of coldness set in his eyes “I’ll be adding that to my report to Lady Edelgard.”

“You write reports to-?”

“That was a joke, Mercedes. A second joke made in extremely poor taste.” He lifted her chin and kissed her forehead, brushing away her tears. The gesture was affectionate, yet apathetic. “Now I have to punish you for attacking your master like that, little bird. But that will come later.” Hubert swept his arm under her legs, lifting her up bridal style. “To bed we go.”

She simply nodded her head, chewing her bottom lip. Having her emotions shifted around in a horrid mess exhausted her further, and all she wanted to do was hold him in her arms.

Carefully peeling the covers back, Hubert placed her down on the farther side of the bed. The sheets were cool against her skin. She moved for him to get in with her; he waved his hand to turn off the lamp, as well as shut his window tight. His backside was still in front of her.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into nearly an hour.

Whatever exhaustion Mercedes had fled away. Her eyes were glued to the ceiling. Thoughts scattered all over her mind, wondering if she should sneak out of his dorm once he fell asleep, to why she had reacted the way she did.

Was he asleep? She moved her head to Hubert, who had remained in the same position.

“Mercedes.”

It was almost as if he had read her mind.

“The last thing I desire is to break what we have built. Until we are no longer able to remain together at the academy, until our parents shove us off into purely political marriage contacts, I want to be with you.” He turned over to face her fully. For the first time, she saw his eyes were soft, full of emotion. A contrast to the rest of his stony face. “Please understand that.”

“I’m sorry, Hubert.” She reached out to stroke his hair as he held her wrist and kissed the inner side of it.

“Granted, this doesn’t get you out of your punishment.”

Mercedes stuck out her tongue, pulling her arm away from his grasp and turning over. “Goodnight, Hubert.

Hubert wrapped his arms around her body. “Goodnight, Mercedes.”


	3. Prelude of a Little Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prequel to the previous chapters.
> 
> or, how Hubert found out Mercedes wasn't so innocent after all.

It began with a campus wide book ban.

Professor Byleth had announced to the class one morning that the monastery had recently found a collection of books that were... _ unsuitable _ for students to read, the material possessing rather erotic illustrations. One opportunistic merchant had begun a side business, peddling these books to students and staff alike. While he had since been suitably banned from Garreg Mach, students who possessed such books were to give them to the church immediately, lest they faced grave punishment.

Hubert thought the whole thing was ludicrous. _ Why would anyone waste their time reading such low-brow drivel? _

Then he recalled his peers consisted of colorful personalities such as Sylvain of House Gautier.

“Ridiculous,” he heard Linhardt mutter near him. “The church shouldn’t censor media like this.”

“I didn’t know you were such an aficionado of smut, Linhardt,” he replied coolly.

“I’m not! I am just a believer of having the ability to read whatever we want. Be that as it may, it’s only words and pictures. If we are subjected to the bloody sights of the battlefield, then we can surely can handle a fictional work.”

“You _ can _ just admit that you don’t want to give up your collection, you know. Perhaps it may do you some good.”

“Perhaps, _ you, _Hubert, would take pleasure in reading erotica. You may learn how to take the stick that’s currently up your ass out.”

“I’d watch what you eat from now on,” Hubert threatened, turning back to his assignment. “If I recall correctly, you were asleep during last week’s seminar on treating rare poisons.” He heard his green-haired classmate curse under his breath, and that was the end of their bickering. His lips twitched into a faint, smug smile.

Class was dismissed, and Hubert had stayed behind. It was his turn to clean the chalkboards and organize the classroom. Frankly, he had much better things he could be doing than servant's work. Garreg Mach had more than enough commoners running about.

Still, it gave him an opportunity to collect intelligence from the other students. Besides his house, the Blue Lions and Golden Deer students sought out the professor; their conversations usually ranged from adjusting their goals to advice to extra tutoring. They all trusted the professor too much for Hubert’s liking.

Professor Byleth seemed to have something..._ missing. _ He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was missing. A touch of humanity, he had once thought. If someone as beloved as the professor were lacking empathy, then what was he? Sooner or later he would solve the riddle of the professor, and decide if they would be a potential threat to Lady Edelgard or the Empire.

Not one soul ventured into the Black Eagles classroom the entire time he cleaned. The students must be avoiding all the professors on campus in an effort to save their precious literature.

This whole ban was utterly ridiculous. Hubert would never admit it out loud, but he agreed with Linhardt. The ban was yet another method used by the Church of Seiros to control the students. They are free to murder bandits that pose a supposed threat, but reading rauchy novels of maidens being fucked by the stableboy?

Nay, they must be banned - thrown away from pure-hearted eyes. The natural desire to fuck was a sight no one should behold.

He wiped one last spot off chalk off the board, stepping away to view his work. “I’ve finished, professor. Is there anything else you require of me?”

The professor looked up from their desk, placing a single sheet of paper atop a growing pile. “I don’t believe so, Hubert. You are free to go.”

He nodded curtly, walking over to his seat to collect his belongings. Lady Edelgard would be expecting him shortly for his report, but there was nothing much to add, save for that the professor graded her exam. More than likely, he expected that the monastery would be in chaos until the news of the book ban had softened.

A flash of strawberry blonde hair in the window caught the corner of his eye. He didn’t recognize who it was at first until she stepped into the classroom, her lips beaming a smile.

Mercedes von Martritz was marked down as an oddity in Hubert’s notes.

A noble-turned-commoner, she seemed content with her low station. The desire to reclaim her noble status was nonexistent. She _ liked _ being a commoner. If he were in her place, he would challenge anyone who dared called him any less than a noble.

Hubert came to the conclusion that she was rather naive - perhaps a tad simple-minded, especially since she did not wish to become a noble again. Her kindness towards everyone displayed a weakness that would no doubt be her downfall.

Despite her shortcomings, apparently she (somehow) was regarded as one of the best healers in their year. Her skills in Faith and Reason were strong, potentially matching those of her brother. If she wasn’t so talented in magic, then he wouldn’t have any reason to keep tabs on her.

“Professor!” Her voice sang out into the still room. A woven basket was tucked under her arm, the scent of freshly baked pastries drifting through the air. He never particularly liked sweets. In fact, he detested anything that had a hint of sugar.

She began to walk towards the professor, but stopped when she noticed Hubert standing there. Her smile brightened at the sight of him. “Hello Hubert! How have you been doing? I feel like I never see you around the monastery, you must be very busy.”

“On the contrary. I await for our house’s next mission eagerly.” His reply was stiff.

“Oh my, I had forgotten that the Black Eagles are supposed to investigate that village at the end of the moon. Isn’t that a long time to wait?”

“I assume it’s nothing to be deeply concerned about, if the archbishop has us waiting two weeks before we leave.”

“I suppose so,” she frowned. “I just worry about those villagers...I hope they will be alright.”

“Weren’t you going to see the professor about something?”

“Oh! Yes! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you up. Have a good rest of your day, Hubert.”

“Likewise.”

As he turned, he was not aware that she was standing so close to him, and his body collided with her own. She gasped as the basket was sent flying from her arms, the doughy pastries within sprawling across the floor with dull thuds. A small, red book was also ejected from the basket amid the confusion, inconspicuously landing amidst the fallen treats.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry Hubert! I’m such a klutz.”

...Where did such a thing come from?

She didn’t seem to notice it had fallen out from the basket. It wasn’t hiding in the pastries - was it? Why would Mercedes go through the trouble to hide a little book?

Unless..? Twisting into a devilish grin, Hubert swallowed a laugh. _ Mercedes? _ The pious, innocent devotee to the Goddess was reading erotica?

He bent down by the book, pretending to help her clean up the pastries. After palming the book, he slipped it into his trouser pocket with ease before rounding up a couple of pastries. The professor had noticed the mess and rushed from their desk to help as well.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I must have two left feet,” she sighed. “Darn it! A whole batch of blueberry pastries ruined because I didn’t look where I was going.”

“Accidents happen. There’s no need to cry over spilled milk once it’s gone.”

“Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to use “pastries” in this case?”

Hubert let out a dry noise that he thought resembled a convincing laugh. “I suppose so.”

“I’ll handle the rest of this, Hubert. You can go. Mercedes wanted to discuss something with me about her schooling.” The professor held a handful of crumbling pastries in their arms, shoveling them back into the girl’s basket.

“Alright. I bid you good day then, professor,” he nodded at Byleth. “Mercedes.”

He left the classroom too quickly for his liking. Her little book of sins was burning a hole in his pocket, and he was surprised at his own eagerness to quench his curiosity. Luck and time were on his side, as Lady Edelgard required him to meet with her in the evenings.

It was still the mid afternoon, which gave him precisely three hours to dissect this little book.

An act of divine revelation struck Hubert. This discovery tarnished his image of Mercedes - indeed, her possession of such a book could be used against her. He wasn’t one for blackmail, but when it presented itself in such a comedic manner, he couldn’t help but seize the opportunity.

He rushed up the stairs to his dorm, and wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings when he bumped into another person. A glint of anger sparked in his eye, which only worsened when the person he bumped into was the insufferable Ferdinand von Aegir.

“Hu-?”

“Out of my way! Insolent fool,” he mumbled to himself, stomping to his dorm room and shutting the door behind him. The silence hit him, his breath short as he pulled out the book, eager to examine its contents.

The book was not in good shape. The blank cover was made of a cheap, faux leather material and peeled at the corners. Flipping it open, he perused the yellowed pages, searching for anything of substance. Mercedes must have had this in her possession for some time, given how worn the tome had become. How tragic for her precious book to be lost it in this way.

Another page turned, and his eyes widened, lips twisting into a smirk. Finally, something of use.

_ The Art of Bondage & Discipline _was printed on the page in bold font. Under the printed title, the initials “MvM” was written, the letters intertwining with each other in flowery signature.

His shoulders shook as he silently laughed. He felt that he was suddenly cast as the lead in a comedic play, waiting for Mercedes to say the punchline. His laughter only worsened when he flipped a few more pages, the sight of illustrated depictions of men and women forced to bend in lewd positions by the rope they were tied to.

The corner of one page had been folded over: a picture of one woman who was tied up like the rest of them, though she was relatively tame in comparison.

She knelt on the ground, thighs together with red rope between them. Her arms were bound together behind her back by the same rope, forcing her to keep her hands together in prayer. The way the rope was tied created patterns on the body, highlighting the woman’s curves and chest. Above her chest was the centerpiece; an elaborate pentagram design interconnecting all the ropes and knots together. Every tie became one with the centerpiece.

Hubert was rather taken aback by how impressed he was at her taste. Out of all the erotic bondage painted in the book, she had fallen back to the simplest design. He found that almost.. _ adorable _ \- for lack of a better term.

He imagined her in the same position, strawberry locks tousled up, doe eyes half-closed, her porcelain skin compressed by silken ropes, begging Hubert that she’d do anything for him.

_ Anything? _ He wondered, _ Would you do absolutely anything, Mercedes? _

_ Yes! _ She would say back. _ Anything. _

He closed the book to seal the growing fantasies. Now that he found out Mercedes’ little secret, he wasn’t certain of what he should do.

Sooner or later she would seek him out to inquire about the missing book, if she dared. She could be too cowardly to come forward about the book. Owning a bondage book would ruin her chaste image. The display of the pastries proved this too. She went out of her way to create an elaborate plan, and she would have gotten away with it too.

He combed back his bangs, letting out a sigh. How foolish he was for thinking that she was so harmless.

He didn’t know her.

But he was bound to, somehow. The miserable little voice that resided in the back of his head wanted to. Hubert swallowed the growing urge to pursue her, trap her in a corner. There was no way in hell he would let Mercedes slip through his fingers so easily again.

* * *

Hubert lifted the cup of coffee to his lips, taking a slow sip of the bitter drink.

Aside from classes and his duties to Lady Edelgard, he had made himself available all day, waiting for the moment she would approach him about the book. It currently sat in its place in his trouser pocket; the temptation to continually brush his fingers to check if it was still there bothered him, adding to his growing anxieties.

He originally thought himself clever for this idea, but as the day went on, he felt more and more like an idiot. Part of him expected of this, of course. There was no sight of her around Garreg Mach when he aimlessly wandered the grounds earlier.

And part of him was almost _ disappointed _. Was he looking too deeply into this? There was nothing remotely sensible about his plan. He felt like a lovesick fool searching for a nonexistent dream girl. Placing the cup down on the tray, he surveyed the gardens. Soon he would have to meet with Lady Edelgard regarding the Death Knight.

It might have been more worthwhile to call it quits. Finish the coffee and use the rest of his free time for something actually worthy of his attention. Perhaps tomorrow would be better.

He huffed, picking up the cup of coffee to finish it off, leaning his head back as he sipped. Hubert _ really _didn’t want to camp out for some dirty-minded church girl. As much as he wished for his plan to work, and approach her....

And then she appeared.

Hubert didn’t notice her, stewing as he was in his frustration. Mercedes approached him cautiously, her hands fiddling with the ends of her shawl. A nervous, albeit kind smile was painted on her face. “Am...am I bothering you, Hubert?”

He avoided her gaze, pretending to act aloof to mask his laugher. “Not at all. I had just finished up my coffee.”

“Coffee?” Curious prickled her. “I didn’t know the merchants were selling some at the monastery.”

“They aren’t. This is from my own private collection I brought from home.”

“Ooooh, I see! I’ve always wanted to try coffee! It’s hard to buy a bag in Fòdlan due how tricky it is to grow the coffee beans - or so I hear. I don’t really know much about coffee beans. My mother has said that it’s quite good with some sugar and-“

“Did you _ need _ something from me, Mercedes?” Cutting her off from her idle chatter might help to ease her into questioning him about the book.

“Well…,” her voice faltered, eyes averted. “It’s a bit of a silly question.”

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees with his hands folded beneath his chin. “Go on.”

“When you were in the classroom the other day, did you happen to see a little red book on the ground?”

Shrugging, he frowned in faux puzzlement. “I do not recall any such thing. Maybe the professor has picked it up, since you lost it in their classroom?”

“No, that was the first place I searched. I was surprised the professor didn’t have it. They always manage to find every lost item at the academy and return them to their owners.”

“Shame.”

“Yeah, it is. It was one of my favorite books to read. I’ve had it for at least half a decade, now that I think about it. Time does sure fly sometimes, doesn’t it?” Her melancholy smile chipped away at Hubert more than he liked. He almost regretted withholding the book from her.

Almost.

“What kind of book was it? A collection of prayers, or something of the sort?”

Her eyes flashed a hint of panic. If he wasn’t studying her so carefully he might have missed it. She smiled again, closing her eyes. “In a way.”

“A collection of bondage prayers?”

“I...I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mercedes, I despise when people attempt to play games with me - _ especially _ when they are terrible liars,” he pulled the book out from his pocket, opening it to her favorite page and turning it around to show it to her. “Lying doesn’t suit you.”

She snatched the book from his hands and closed it. A flush crept up her cheeks as her eyes darted around the gardens. “Someone could have seen that!”

“Count yourself fortunate that it was me who found your little book of sins, and not anyone else.” Hubert stood up from the table, brushing imaginary dust from his trousers. He motioned for her to follow him as he began to walk, deeper into the gardens. Mercedes hesitated for a moment, but she had no choice. She followed behind him with a heavy huff.

As they trudged through the cobbled paths, they encountered fewer and fewer students, until they came to a clearing where there was no one. He had practiced this conversation in his head, but he didn’t expect how tense it had become. He found the words stuck in his throat.

How _ do _you ask a woman about this sort of thing?

This was all so foreign to him. He thought he would be able to predict her reactions, how he would propose his deal - everything running as smoothly as possible.

Now, in the moment, his careful planning had vanished, and he wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

But he had to ask her. It was too late to back out at this point, when he was beginning to drown in thoughts of her.

“I will not tell anyone of your book. You may keep it,” he began, combing his bangs back from his face.

“I’m _ very _grateful to you for allowing me to keep my own book,” she snarkily replied back.

He turned around, gripping her jaw to silence her. _ “But, _ there’s a condition,” his thumb dragged across her lower lip roughly, studying her eyes. “You want to _ do _ this sort of thing, correct? However, you feel guilty about having erotica in your possession, and these desires seem to haunt you.”

She nodded her head, the flush deepening to a redder color.

“What if I were to say that those said desires would be of assistance to me?”

Her eyebrows furrowed together. He released her jaw from his grip to allow her to speak. “What do you mean exactly?”

“You would be in service to me. We would follow the rules your book gives, as you are more familiar with this sort of relationship than I, and partake in a relationship of bondage. By doing this, we would both benefit from having a release of our… _ urges. _ In a way, you would be aiding those who are less fortunate,” his fingers twitched, itching to do something to Mercedes. The desires boiled within him, the image of her tied up throbbing in his head. “Doesn’t the goddess say to help those in need?”

She pursed her lips, debating his proposal in her head as he held back the urge to stroke her throat. “If you put it like that, I suppose you’ve created a loophole that would be suitable for the both of us. Y’know, I didn’t take you for the type of person to be interested in kink. I thought you would be too busy with Edelgard to think about this stuff.”

“Your book must have awoken something in me,” he fibbed. In a sense, though, he was telling the truth. He always had these deep, dark desires within, hidden away to never see the light of day. Her charming disposition not only brought them out, but there was no way he could store them back inside him. They were out to bask in the rays of the sun. The sun just so happened to be Mercedes.

“How do you want to do this? I’m sure you want to keep this relationship away from the others.”

“There will be a collection of papers arriving in the form of a letter to your dorm. It should be here tomorrow or the following day. Memorize every word written, and burn them. No matter what, do not keep them. From there, we will begin.”

“I’m honestly flattered you would go this far to keep it secret,” she smirked, crossing her arms together. “To think that we would bond over such a thing.”

“Take it as my commitment to our relationship. As a dom’s role I should ensure your safety, pet.”

“‘Pet?’” She raised her eyebrows.

“Yes. _ Pet _.”

Hubert didn’t realize he even called her that name. It simply rolled off his tongue - almost as if he was meant to call her that by nature. Perhaps this would be easier than he thought, and he was simply overthinking.

“We will meet later. I bid you good day.” He started walking away from her when he stopped, suddenly remembering a thought. “One more thing, pet.”

“What is it, Hubert?”

“Don’t touch yourself. Hold off until the next time we meet - you’ll know when.” He bit his lip to stave away the awkwardness that was sneaking upwards. He’d hold off as well. It was only fair. He continued his walk, a thousand “what ifs” swirling his mind like bees. Now that the first step was complete, there comes the initial day.

His church girl be better worth all the trouble she’s bestowed upon him. Heart racing, Hubert smirked to himself.

_ His church girl_.

* * *

Two days had passed since their meeting in the gardens.

His eyes appeared more sunken-in, he noticed as he glanced at himself in the mirror. The consequences of staying up late into the night wouldn’t be a bother to him, however. Excitement and nerves kept him on his toes. Hubert sat on his made bed, resting his bare palms on his knees, back arched straight. His left leg bounced in place, charged with anticipation.

Lady Edelgard didn’t notice a change in him this morning. Usually she was able to detect a change in him and confront him about it; though, today she seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts. The Emperor has been sending her more letters than usual. Hubert wouldn’t pry, but he suspected that the Emperor’s health was declining.

However, he’d worry about Empire’s troubles later. At any second, Mercedes would walk into his dormitory - if she read and followed the instructions correctly.

He never was one for anxieties. Usually he _ forced _ them all out. Having been trained since birth to be an important retainer to the Empire, one of the first lessons Hubert was taught was to go into any situation with a clear head. Hesitate on a move and the Empire will suffer. He understood battle tactics and strategy from both within and without.

And the sex - he knows what to do. The whore he had begrudgingly accepted from his father three years ago taught him well. The anatomy of women were less than mysterious.

So why now, out of all the things to be troubled about, was he so worried about Mercedes?

Before he could come to a sensible conclusion, the door creaked open, and she appeared, closing it behind her. “Hubert?”

He jumped up from the bed, perhaps too eagerly. “Mercedes.”

A pregnant pause filled the room.

The room was saturated in deafening silence and tumultuous stillness. He stared into her eyes, relieved to find the same nervousness he harbored. She fiddled with the ends of her shawl, fingers working their way to untie the knot.

Mercedes unwrapped the shawl at last, folding it neatly and placing it on the floor. Then came her necktie. One pull of the bow and it unraveled, hanging loosely around her neck. That, too, was folded on top of her shawl. Socks and boots came after, again stored in the same elegance as the others.

His hand twitched in agony, wishing he was the one undressing her. Next time they met, _ he _ would be the only one to take her clothes off. Not being able to was unbearable.

She began to unbutton her blouse, but ceased for a moment to grab something from under the fabric. “Oh! I almost forgot. Before we start, I’d like to go over a few things with you.”

From her chest, she pulled out the letters he had sent her prior. Unfolding the papers, she walked over to stand next to him. From this angle and with how open her blouse was, the temptation to gaze at her cleavage was unbearable. He forced himself to focus only on the letter. Later, they would start. On his instructions, she had written above his handwriting with her own comments.

“First of all,” she pointed to one instruction. “I feel that we should have a nonverbal safe word. If I’m unable to speak and I’m at a risk, I wouldn’t be able to communicate that with you. I was thinking I can tap you three times. What do you think?”

He nodded his head. It was clever of her to notice that, but it wouldn’t be enough. “And what if your hands are tied together and you aren’t able to tap me?”

“I’ll wiggle my right toe! You better keep an eye on my foot.”

Her enthusiasm caused the corner of his lips to twitch. “I will, don’t worry. Anything else that needs to be brought to my attention?”

“I cannot meet with you on certain days. I’ll let you know ahead of time if that changes, but on Saint Days, I volunteer at the cathedral by being part of the choir.”

Hubert already knew that due to previous notes of her schedule, but he nodded his head anyway. “That is fine. Duties come before play.”

“Those were the most pressing matters I can think of right now, but as I said, I’ll let you know if anything else needs to be talked about.”

He patted her head, letting out a dry laugh. His worries were entirely soaked up by her eagerness. Reality struck through him. The aching neediness to release was building up, and he couldn’t stall it any longer. “Shall we, pet?”

“Of course,” she smiled at him, returning to undoing her blouse. Instead of folding it like her other clothing, the blouse was tossed to the floor, followed by her skirt. “Did I do it right?” she inquired of him, voice quieted, arms moving to cover her nakedness.

“I can’t see if you don’t show me,” he whispered, grabbing her wrists and holding them above her head. Hubert sucked in his breath, blinking several times over as if to check whether he were dreaming.

The red, silken rope contrasted against and highlighted the creaminess of her skin. It was tied around her body differently than he had imagined. Instead of the pattern with the pentagram that was in her little book, she had chosen to tie herself with a much simpler pattern.

The rope compressed around her breasts, accentuating her already endowed size. He released her left wrist to trail a finger between her breasts to where the rope sunk into her sternum. Pulling on it delicately, he confirmed the rope was bound tight around her - almost _ too _ tight. He continued trailing his finger, pausing once more to meet her stomach. The rope tied there met and crossed the bindings connected between her thighs.

Mercedes was rather curvaceous underneath the layers of her school uniform. Her clothing hid away all of her delicious plumpness. He never was one to ogle at women, yet he wished to spend their time together kneading her flesh, feeling her plushness in his hands. His mouth watered; the urge to sink his teeth into the softness of her stomach burgeoned.

Hubert pushed her onto his bed, her squeal only making his movements in handling her rougher. He pushed his body between her thighs, forcing them apart as he lowered his head to finally to leave his mark on her. Her body tensed, hands gripping the blankets as she let out a soft cry, tilting her head back.

Jerking his head back, he released her, his breathing ragged. He eyed the spot on her stomach where he had bitten her.

A fresh, red, glistening bite mark. It stood out against her skin just like the rope, almost even the same shade. Taking in a deep breath, he sighed heavily, peering at Mercedes. “My apologizes, if that was too excessive.”

“I liked it…” she trailed off, turning her head to the side. Her entire face was flushed, matching the ropes. “Can you do again?”

“Where are your manners, pet?” he replied with a toothy grin.

“Please, may you bite me again, Hubert?”

“_With pleasure_.” He chose another spot on her stomach, once again losing himself in the pleasure of her plushness. He stopped, trailing more gentle nibbles down her stomach until his face was nestled between her thighs. Parting them further apart, he squeezed her thighs, giving one a heartly smack.

“What was that for?” she cried out.

“Free.”

Hubert ghosted his fingers across the rope digging into her cunt. Already there were juices leaking out and coating the bind. If two days did this to her, what would a week result in? His breath tickled her, a low moan escaping from her lips. Leaning his head forward, he kissed at her labia, eyes affixed to her body to observe how she was writhing around.

Mercedes was his to toy with - _ only _ his. He decided, drowning in his foolish, selfish desires, that she would be his.

This stranger turned lover.

What a twist on his fate that was.

He moved to climb on top of her. Mercedes was taller than the average woman, yet Hubert still towered over her, shielding her so that her world only consisted of him. Now he had a better angle to study her flushed face, noticing the very faint freckles that dotted her visage. She had applied makeup, her lipstick piquing his interest the most.

His thumb glided across her lower lip in the same manner he did previously, smearing the pinkish color on her cheeks. He wished she had chosen a redder color. That way it could be the same shade as her bite marks and rope. She kissed his thumb, the unexpected action causing him to flinch. Her eyes narrowed as she began to kiss it again, her lips brushing against the tip of his thumb.

Hubert pulled his thumb back and was about to press down on her throat when he noticed that she was covering her face. “Is something the matter?”

Mercedes nodded her head, spreading her fingers apart so her eyes could be seen. “Yes, I’ve just… I have never done something lewd like that before.”

He let out a low chuckle, flicking the top of her head. “Silly creature. Have you forgotten you walked into my bedroom with what you’re wearing?”

“I haven’t, but that is-”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “Enough idle chatter, pet.”

She kissed his finger once more, holding back a giggle. Smirking, he tweaked her left nipple, inching his hand back to swirl his finger around her sweet spot. Her breath staggered, trying to stifle a moan from the sudden wave of pleasure he was giving her. Instead she bit down on her lower lip, twisting underneath him and gripping the blankets.

She was putty in his hands. The wetness only increased as he moved. Hubert let go of her nipple, giving her breast a rough shake before he pulled the bindings upwards. The rope dug deeper in her crotch, and she cried out - no, _ sang _for him.

Mercedes crooned sweet, broken cries of bliss for him, as if she were a bird in a cage, singing tender songs only for his ears. All Hubert wanted to do was to trap her in his arms and never allow her to leave his embrace.

His little bird. That was what she was. Silk ropes were her cage, and he was the key to let her out.

That was his breaking point. No longer could he restrain himself from utterly going insane as this beautiful woman beneath him _ begged _ out his name. All that had been instilled, drilled, beaten into his very core had vanished away in mere seconds.There was nothing left in him. An animalistic drive overtook his common sense.

Memories escaped him, coming back in hazy, lust-filled flashes. He remembered nearly ripping off his own clothing, the buttons of his shirt clattering on the hardwood flooring, the tearing of the fabric he wished was not his own. His lips collided with her own, teeth pulling and biting her lips, drinking in her taste. Nails assaulted his spine, though he felt no pain. That was her own mark upon him.

He pulled back, noticing that her mouth was forming words, falling on deaf ears. Blinking his eyes, Hubert attempted to regain his hearing, but to no avail. Instead, he continued kissing her while his hand loosely gripped her neck.

“...Hubert.”

He froze at the abrupt sound of her voice. Reality returned to him. His breathing was ragged, blood roaring in his ears, hand still wrapped around her throat. Her hands cupped his face, her eyebrows furrowed together in worry. Jolting his hand away, his eyes widened. “Mercedes…”

“You had a strange glint in your eyes. Are you alright?”

He exhaled shakily, combing his hand through his bangs, noticing how much sweat coated his face. “I believe so. Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?”

She half-smiled, caressing his hollow cheeks. “Take a second to compose yourself, and we can continue if you want to. I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

He nodded his head, doing as he was told and took another breath. “I’ll be fine, pet.” He tilted his head into her palms. “How are you faring?”

“I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?”

She pursed her lips. “You know exactly what I’m talking about!”

He narrowed his eyes, sitting up on his knees. Once he positioned himself, he grabbed her plush thighs, giving another slap before he dragged her towards him, arranging his cock on her slit. Pushing the rope aside, he teased her entrance by rocking his length against her labia.

Once again, she was singing a song of passion, her breathing ragged from his sudden whim. “You said you were _ ready _,” Hubert reminded her, sliding himself inside of her with ease.

Heat encompassed his cock. He didn’t remember how _ warm _it was; overwhelming almost. He would melt into a pool of Mercedes.

Leaning forward, he rolled his hips in a slow, deep rhythm. Mercedes hugged his shoulders, hooking her legs around his waist, arching her neck and back to let out a guttural moan. The pleasure washed over him like a tidal wave, his body sinking entirely into the depths of the ocean below where his siren would greet him.

Her forehead touched his, her breathing in sync with his own. A sweaty hand wrapped around her head, lifting her up to kiss her once again, gripping a handful of her thick locks. This kiss was gentle, yet had the same passion as his thrusting. He swore under his breath, breaking the kiss to burrow his head between the nape of her neck and shoulder.

Each he move he made was slurred and slowed, essentially drunk on fucking and his church girl. Was sex supposed to be so draining? So full of vigor, bringing forth the connection of two individuals as one? So… natural? Nothing was premeditated, each move following the next in a sequence that was instinctive despite his lack of experience.

When his father brought him that whore years ago, Hubert saw it as another hurdle to jump through. Another proof of worth of the Vestra name, and to ensure he would follow all orders by his superiors. A trained retainer of the Empire, willing to die for his Emperor.

But Lady Edelgard would never force him to perform something that emotionally drastic. Would she?

He closed his eyes for a moment, gritting his teeth together. Now wasn’t the time to ponder the future - it was difficult to picture anything else but Mercedes’ smile.

Fire pooled in his abdomen, shockwaves of a nearing climax began to build up. Fuck, he couldn’t handle it much longer.

“Hu..Hubert..” she gasped out, raking her nails more roughly. He only nodded his head. She must be nearing her limit as well.

With all the strength he could muster, he continued to roll his hips, doing his best to control his breathing. His movements were erratic, having lost that pacing. Nevertheless he bucked harshly, lifting his head to suck on her neck, biting down to leave another mark.

In return, she crept her fingers up his neck to grip the roots of his hair, muttering something under her breath that he did not hear. If he was drunk before, that was nothing in comparison to this slackened, inebriated flow of time. Nothing existed previously. All he felt was the now.

He swore once more, emptying himself deep within her with a garbled groan of his own. Exhaustion flooded his senses, and he collapsed his weight on top of her. All he heard was white noise, his vision dulling. He blinked in an attempt to regain some of his composure before he rolled off of her, not wanting to burden her with his stature.

Hubert felt his hand grabbed, and turned his head to see Mercedes, just as exhausted as he, beaming her famous smile at him. Words evaded him, so he chose instead to rub her head.

It seemed like hours passed as they lay on his bed, soaked in sweat and fatigue.

“Do you want my help to get the rope off of you?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“I can manage.” She reached behind her neck, undoing some of the knots there. Wriggling out of the rope, her body was finally free. A faint imprint of the rope was all that remained on her skin. He reached out, stroking the silhouette of her body before moving to massage her stomach.

Goddess, how can someone be so _ soft _? He could continue to lay here, exploring every crevice of her body, squeezing every supple part, and he still wouldn’t be satisfied.

Her hand patted his stomach, squeezing the zero body fat that was on him. “Squish, squish, squish.”

“You won’t find much to squish, little bird.”

“Little bird. Is that another nickname?”

“Of course,” his thumb brushed over her lips. “Don’t you remember singing to me?”

“I didn’t know you liked listening to women moaning and grunting like animals.”

“It’s not pleasant to degrade yourself like that, Mercedes.”

She shot him a glance, pinching his stomach again, harder this time. “So rude.”

Hubert stretched his limbs on the bed, the soreness settling deep in his inner thighs. “Watch your tongue, or next session I won’t be as nice.”

“I’d hate to know what your definition of nice is. My poor stomach…” Her hand swirled around one of his bite marks, green sparks emitting from her fingertips that began to entwine about the mark, the wound slowly beginning to heal.

He grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Don’t heal them. I like how they look on you.”

“If I have to keep them, you should get one too.” Mercedes took the hand that was grabbing her and bit down hard on the flesh of his wrist. Swearing a least a dozen curses, his free hand balled into a fist, nails digging into his palm.

“_ See _,” she pointed out, “It hurts a lot when you do that. The least you can do is allow me to heal them enough so that the pain doesn’t hinder my training.”

A strange sensation of harmony came over him. All seemed to be at peace in the moment, his worries melted away. Life was simple and clear. By the end of the week, he would memorize every inch of her, the knowledge gained only for his own selfish purposes.

Hubert patted her head, lips twitching into a genuine smile. “I think I’ll keep you around, little bird.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These past two weeks have been quite....something. Hahaha... 
> 
> Thank you all SOOOO SOO SO much for the love for Euphonious. I am astonished at the many hits, kudos, and comments I've gotten. I am sorry it took much longer than I thought to update, but feed well. Receive the grains and feast.


	4. Miserere mei, Dea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: 
> 
> This chapter was written before the Jeritza DLC had come out, and I had not played it yet. I'm going keep things the way they are, unless it really becomes a distraction to the story, and I will be more than happy to change it to match canon.

Rows of candles lit the pews, forming a glowing path between them toward the altar of the Goddess at the front, illuminating the entire cathedral in a cordial, holy glow. Few voices lingered after the celebration of the beloved Saint Seiros, murmuring final prayers of guidance, love, and of fervent desperation to have wishes granted.

Mercedes, after giving up her nightly prayers, chose to remain in the cathedral for a few more moments, taking in the wonderful sight of the parishioners and candlelight, relaxing in the back row of the wooden pews by herself. After being surrounded by numerous people all day, the welcome solitude did much to alleviate her stress.

The dancing candlelight reminded her of the fireflies of her youth that flitted about in the twilight. She would often chase after them with empty jars, her younger brother tagging alongside her on the prairie fields surrounding their manor.

Memories of her brother Emile always brought a twinge of pain to her heart, and the regret that she didn’t fight for him hard enough. He deserved to be with his family, despite only sharing half of her blood. They were still siblings, after all. A few pieces of parchment, a different father, and a detestable lawyer could never shatter that bond.

She shifted uncomfortably on the pew, part of her wishing that her body didn’t ache as much as it did. With Hubert bending her body in seemingly impossible positions every other day, she decided she wasn’t sore enough and had volunteered to help the staff prepare for the day’s festivities. Her feet ached the most, as evidenced by her lack of boots, which were placed neatly beside her.

Sleep would come easily tonight. Along with the aid of a vulnerary to soothe her weary muscles.

She hummed to herself one of the hymns she had sung earlier while fixated on a candle near the bench, watching the flames dance.

Footsteps and a creak of the bench caught her attention, and she turned to face none other than Hubert. He had sat down next to her without speaking a word.

She blinked in disbelief. “Hello.”

The entire time she had known Hubert, before and after their relationship started, he had never stepped into the cathedral willingly. Once, she had caught him grumbling about being selected by the professor to be a part of choir practice, but that was the only occasion she could recall.

“Good evening, Mercedes. Was this where you were hiding?” His arms were crossed, relaxing back into the pew.

“I wasn’t hiding,” she shot back. “You knew perfectly well where I was today.”

“You disappeared after the hymns were finished, and a crowd of people flooded the cathedral. I couldn’t find you afterward. I assumed you were occupied with the festivities and chatter, anyway.”

She was unable to keep back a silly grin. “So you did come after all! I didn’t see you in the crowd!”

“I had to disappear for some business, but yes, I did. I was hiding in the back. You sang beautifully,” he stated bluntly.

“Thank you,” she tucked a stray hair behind her ear, feeling a slight blush burning her face. Why was she so flustered over his compliment? “Everyone did their best to praise the Goddess and Saint Seiros. That’s all that matters.”

“Give yourself credit when it’s due, pet. You possess an excellent voice.”

“I suppose so. Thank you.”

He patted her head, turning his attention towards the candlelight. “Pretty, isn’t it? It’s the first time I regarded this building as having some value.”

Mercedes raised an eyebrow, slightly frowning. “What do you mean, Hubert? The monastery is the centerpiece of Fódlan, isn’t that valuable enough? Without the church, we wouldn’t have secured these years and years of peace.”

Sighing, Hubert leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling, body slouching on the pew as it gently creaked beneath him. “I believe more in the power of what has materialized within us mortals than the whimsy of wondering about the existence of a goddess. We humans have done more good on this earth with our own power. If the goddess created this world, why create it full of evil?”

“Love would not exist if there were no evil.” She pursed her lips, clutching the knot of her shawl.  _ Why does he want to talk of the church all of a sudden _ ? “The goddess created a world of choice, where one can choose to commit deeds of love or deeds of evil. Given the existence of evil, we can form stronger bonds with our love for the goddess, and banish impurities against the church.”

“Impurities?” He scoffed at her words. “Elaborate on your definition of ‘impurities.’”

“Those who oppose the church, the archbishop - anything or anyone that may cause harm to fall on Fódlan.”

“So are you meaning those who do not fully agree with the teachings of the church? Despite these same ‘teachers’ being unable to follow their own messages? Are you implying we should  _ murder those who oppose the church? _ ”

“ _ No! _ I didn’t say that. Don’t put words into my mouth.”

“But you are implying that, right?”

“I…” Her voice faltered, hinting at her discomfort. This whole conversation was utter nonsense. She respected others' viewpoints without being too overbearing with her own. And she certainly was not ignorant of the hypocrisy of the church. Human tongues are prone to lies. The only truth was from the Goddess herself.

“If there are people who threaten the church, they threaten all of Fódlan. Of course, we must show mercy if they relent, but if they truly wish death on all of us, then why should we allow them to wreak havoc? Atonement is all we can offer.”

“And the path to atonement is death?”

“Yes.”

He rubbed his temples, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Never mind what I’ve been saying. You, of all people, wouldn’t understand my qualms with the church.”

Anger roiled within her chest, turning her face from his, pretending the candlelight once again captivated her attention. Though Mercedes couldn’t see his face, she could practically sense his irritation, his narrowed eyes piercing the back of her head.

Hubert was not being himself. He was not the kind of person to chide about religion, and he knew how religious she was. To have him suddenly pick apart her faith only furthered her temper and worry. So far their interactions had been based in raw, naked honesty, and she didn’t want it all to crumble.

She turned back around, sliding her body closer to him, her fingers ghosting over his gloved ones. They flinched at her touch, his eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. “Mercedes?”

She kissed him, praying for the shadows to cast a veil over their bodies; spiriting them away to their own private world. To her surprise, and perhaps thankfully, he relented to her sudden touch, melting into her kisses, scraping his teeth across her lips. He snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her body closer.

Pulling himself away, he peered down at her, opening his mouth to speak. She shook her head, causing him to shut his mouth. “I’m still mad at you.”

“So what does that mean for me?” 

“ _ You _ are the one to listen to  _ my _ commands...”

For a brief second, she thought she glimpsed a flash of worry in his eyes. Then she confirmed it when she smirked, leaning forward to brush her lips across his neck, giving him one single lick. “You won’t be gravely harmed.”

While he shuddered, she held back her embarrassment, teetering on the edge. Forwardness was  ** _not_ ** her forte. The eyes of the saints seemed to cast their judgment, observing her from the seemingly distant glow of the candles.

She ignored them, deciding that her actions were most certainly godly.

Mercedes was not a pure, holy woman - but she certainly sensed the love of the Goddess coming through her body, channeling that as she slowly doffed her shawl.

She wrapped the woolen fabric around Hubert, sliding across to his left and leading him off the pew, walking backwards towards a corner of the cathedral dubbed as the ‘counseling corner.” Usually, the carved stone and marble would lay bare, but a curtain covered the prominent grayness. Its fabrics were woven in beautiful shades of brown and burgundy, the threads forming the Crest of Seiros prominently at its center.

He followed her behind the tapestry-like a lamb to a shepherd, slinking into the shadows he was so familiar with. Her hips brushed a groove carved into the stone, prompting her to hop on the ledge, pulling Hubert down by his collar to peck his lips with one final kiss.

“Nice and cozy, isn't it?” Mercedes tilted her head, parting her thighs to make enough space for his body to slide through.

“I reckon so,” his fingers brushed against the hem of her skirt, his hands squeezing her thighs as he leaned forward, grabbing her wrists to pin her down. “Weren’t you going to be the one on top?”

“Oh! Yes! I nearly forgot.”

“How do you forget something you said moments ago?”

“Or did I?” She raised her eyebrows, staring directly into his eyes. Moving her left arm closer to her head, her leg hooked around his foot to trap it. With her free leg, she pushed herself upwards with all of her might, spinning her body around so that she was on top, and he was beneath her, pinned down just like she was seconds before.

He landed on the stone with a grunt of pain, eyes squeezed shut in a wince.

“Oh my goodness, are you alright, Hubert?”

“...I’ll manage.”

Adjusting herself atop him, Mercedes shifted her hips, feeling his growing erection through his pants. She lifted herself up for a moment, hiking her skirt so that it would cover his lower half. Now she could really feel the heat of him press on her, giving her pause.

This wasn’t the first time that she was the one on top. She would only be on top if Hubert had directed her positioning.

Hubert must have seen her hesitation as an opportunity to buck his hips upwards, grinding himself against her underwear.

She bit her lower lip to hold back a squeak. “I said that  _ I  _ was in charge, Hubie.”

“ _ My  _ apologies.”

“ _ My _ first order is silence from you. I need to concentrate.”

He merely shrugged, mischief dancing in his eyes.

Mercedes let go of his wrists to unzip his trousers, pulling them down so that his cock was exposed to the chill of the cathedral. She swirled her index finger around the tip, watching it twitch in response. He sucked in air, clenching and unclenching his hands.

“Now,” she squeezed his length gently. “I’m going to show you the love of the Goddess.”

She raised herself again, pushing aside her panties, and in painfully-slow fashion, lowered herself onto his cock. It slid in with ease, given just how unbelievably aroused she had gotten, sinking deeper as it twitched away. Letting out a sigh, she began to ride him with a gentle pace, her nervousness colliding with the pleasure coursing through her body.

She closed her eyes to focus on the task at hand, biting on her lower lip to suppress her moans. Hubert placed his hands on her waist, guiding how fast her pacing should be. Even when she was supposed to be in charge, he could not relent every bit of control.

Perhaps there was a way to correct that.

“Do you know the Goddess’ prayer?” Her eyes were still closed, but she could sense that he was taken aback at her question. 

“..P-Partially,” he responded after a pregnant pause. Part of her thought that his answer was a white lie only to appease her.

“Then I will recite it for you - _ buuuut  _ you have to repeat it after me.”

A dry laugh emitted from within his chest. “Alright then.”

“If you don’t repeat after me correctly, I will slow down. If you do, I speed up.”

“And if I don’t want to follow directions?”

Mercedes’ eyes flashed opened briefly, ceasing her riding, a wolfish smile dancing on her lips. “Then you don’t get to cum.” Her mind flinched at the usage of that word, but if she wanted to show Hubert she was serious, then there would be no harm in dropping the crude word.

He did not reply, his eyes once again giving away his anxieties, that desperation to satisfy his primal desires.

She cleared her throat, returning to her slow and steady pace. “Are you ready?”

“I believe so.”

“I believe so,  _ Lady Martritiz _ .”

Hubert rolled his eyes at her teasing response. The tables had now turned after he had ordered her to use ‘Lord Vestra’ on numerous occasions. Hearing herself use the term ‘Lady Martritriz’ brought forth a strange, yet familiar discomfort. She wasn’t able to recall the last time anyone called her a lady, let alone the last time she referred to herself as a noble.

Something grabbed her shoulder firmly, causing her to gasp in horror and turn around to find...absolutely nothing behind her.

Was it the ghosts of her past? Or, perhaps more reasonably, a saint sending one final warning for her actions?

“Are you alright?” Hubert’s words drenched with worry. “You’ve been acting rather odd since we started.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “I’ll be fine. In the meantime, you should think about worrying for yourself.”

Maybe it was a good idea to recite a prayer out loud. It might ward off the invading spirits.

Once again she began that slow pace, a soft groan escaping her lips in time with Hubert. The neediness swelled within her, ready to finally drown in the pleasure she had received from him.

“Have mercy on me, O dear Goddess, according to your unfailing love.”

“Have mercy on me, O dear Goddess, according to your unfailing love.”

As she promised, Mercedes increased her pacing, closing her eyes again. She felt his hands creep up to her blouse, unbuttoning each button carefully.

“Wash me thoroughly from my wickedness, and cleanse me from my sin.”

He pulled the blouse off her in a single motion. “Wash me thoroughly from my wickedness, and cleanse me from my sin.”

“For I know of my transgressions, and my sin is always before me.” Fingernails dug into her palm, her body tilting back as she moved even faster. One of Hubert’s hands cupped a breast underneath her bra. The other steadied her back.

“For I know of my transgressions, and my sin is always before me.” His voice was low, breath thick with lust. His humble words sent shivers down her spine, as if in penance for her lack of dominating skill.

She had her reasons as to why she followed instead of led. Her fate was carved by the Goddess, and even though she felt a twinge of regret growing, there came a certain peace in the fact that it was her choice to do this.

All to be closer to Hubert. If this was love of her creations from the Goddess, or simply her own mortal love, Mercedes was not sure.

All she knew was that she  _ had  _ love.

“Against you, you only, have I sinned, and done this evil in your sight; so you are surely right in your verdict, and justified in your judgment.”

“Against you, you only, have I sinned,” he glided his fingers across her perked nipple, “and done this evil your sight; so you are surely right in your verdict, and justified in your judgment.”

“Let me hear joy and gladness,” she breathed out, reaching out her hands to hold his, squeezing her fingers betwixt his harder in a gesture that was born of half possession, half passion. “Let the bones you have crushed rejoice.”

The words she spoke were no longer mere words of prayer, but of a conversation. She was speaking to him of their relationship - the prayers mirroring emotions.

“Let me hear joy and gladness. Let the bones you have crushed rejoice.”

Every movement was pure ecstasy, fueled by both gospel and mortal love. Mercedes was spreading her message through her legs, as crude as it sounded. No longer did the sensation of being watched by the saints startle her.

There was nothing outside this tiny, tucked-away corner of the cathedral. No churches or archbishops, no professors or students, no Crests or obligations, no hatred penetrated through the fabric that concealed them.

Everything was perfect. She could have spent hours and hours in this little corner, lasting until the sun rays would shine through the painted glass.

“....I think I’m getting close,” she said with hesitation, slowing down.

“Oh? So soon you are finished with your prayers?”

The same, cocky smile was on her face. “You will just have to recite them to me some other time. Perhaps with some rope and wax? Or would that be too extreme for your taste?”

The smugness wiped clean from Hubert instantaneously. “We’ll see about that.”

“Don’t worry,” she kissed his knuckles. “You know I’m an excellent healer if there were to be any accidents.”

He squeezed her hands in response, his length twitching with anticipation within her. Her whole body was flushed with heat, the same neediness for release burning greatly within.

Mercedes set a dizzying pace for herself, lost in the pursuit of her release yet dragging Hubert along with her. Each impact of flesh against flesh was punctuated with a heated, animalistic sound from both of them; each whispered moan she managed to displace from his lips only served to spur her on, continuing to drive him mad.

He began to raise himself up, but she put a stop him taking control with a hand to his chest. “Let me, Hubert, please.” she hissed at him.

“I can’t help myself when I’m around you.”

Her heart skipped a beat then, and for a second she considered slipping a bit of her power. Instead, she smiled and continued, her hips’ rhythm contorting out of the established pattern. Her teeth bit down on her lip so harshly that she pierced the delicate skin, a droplet of blood trailing down her chin.

His fingers brushed against it, the blood staining the pristine white gloves he was so proud of. A scarlet reminder of what took place at Garreg Mach.

She cried weakly as she came, closing her eyes to see a thousand eyes and a thousand sparks flutter in the darkness, scattering among themselves. Hubert followed suit, filling her up once again with a breathless sigh of total collapse. Mercedes remained upright in her position for a moment, gathering what thoughts she had left before she collapsed on top of him, not having a care left in this world. He held her close, petting the back of her head.

Not a word was spoken in their silence. There was no need to speak.

They remained huddled together for what seemed like days, caressing and holding each other as if they would be broken apart by some unseen force.

“Mercedes?” Hubert’s voice was intense to her ears after the prolonged stillness.

“Yes, Hubert?”

“Do you think we are locked in the church?”

“What do you mean?”

“The iron gates in front, they’re locked at night.”

“Yes, but surely there’s someone-.”

Her eyes widened, letting out a gasp. They were the only living souls in the cathedral. The nuns and priests were sound asleep in their quarters.

Oh dear Goddess, they were locked in the cathedral until morning.

“Shit,” she heard him mumble, collecting himself and leaving the corner. He kept the fabric closed behind him to give her privacy to dress herself, and waited for her to be finished. Once she was done, she left the corner, wiggling her toes in socks.

“Where are your boots?”

Mercedes glanced down, brushing a stray lock behind her ear. “I must’ve left them by the pew when we went to the corner. Oopsie - guess I didn’t realize!”

He let out a sigh, going to the pew to grab her boots. Once he did and handed them to her, she began to put one on when her foot stepped on something. Pulling her leg back she reached a hand in, and took out a familiar-looking metal key.

The color drained from her face, the sudden realization of someone  _ knowing  _ what she had done in the cathedral causing her to stagger backwards into the corner. She clenched the key in her hand so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

The small, well-used key was for a small gate located at the main entrance. No one except close members of the monastery knew about it, and a magic barrier had been charmed to hide its existence to casual church-goers.

Mercedes had used this key several times in the past when she had stayed late during the evening prayer sessions. Swallowing what sliver of pride she had left, she finished putting her boots on and walked towards Hubert, grabbing him by the arm.

“We have a way out.”

Before he was able to respond, she dragged him towards the entrance, overhearing what she believed to be ghosts of yore snickering behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew, i'm going to hell for this.


	5. Locked In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Apologizes for the long wait, and for an update that is rather short. I feel guilty to upload something that has less words than what I've currently posted. If anything, this is a smutty, filler chapter that adds a little more to the world I am building. I liked what I had, and I wanted to share it with you all. I didn't want something I've been working on little by little for a few months to entirely go to waste. I just did not see a way to really fit it in with the main story I have more or less planned out.
> 
> With that being said, I am currently in the midst of working on a more fleshed out chapter that will be out soon. I have all the time in the world, and I have fewer excuses to not write. I will properly give you, dear Readers, a very well-deserved feast.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience. I promise I have not banished this fic in a state of limbo. I am just a very slow updater trying to get back into the groove of writing.

A rare snow had fallen across the monastery, enrobing Garreg Mach just as the mountains obscured the sunset in the evenings.

A thin blanket of snowflakes covered the grounds during the night, which surprised many of the students and faculty when they awoke in the morning.

Many were elated with this sudden change of weather. Going from an unusually warm spring day to unseasonal snowfall was certainly something, but the members of the academy did not seem to mind. Using the dusting to justify giving a day off, students were allowed to romp about in the snow with joy. It was almost a miracle, as some of the holy men and women mused.

Hubert, reserved as ever, felt the sight of snow was at least somewhat remarkable.

A glance outside was all he needed to satisfy his curiosity that morning, promptly closing the curtains afterwards and loosening one of the buttons on his white collared shirt.

He had only seen it in person once as a child - though that trip up North was nothing but unpleasant. It reminded him of Edelgard’s wrongful imprisonment, that white fury ensnaring her.

Snow can be considered charming, he supposed. Mercedes was giddy from it since she hadn’t seen snow since her days at the magic academy. When she had entered his room, a few snowflakes had clung to her hair, glittering like pearls.

But to him, it lacked any beauty that could surpass that of his pet.

Mercedes was bound with silken rope, naked, floating in the air with the aid of his magic.

Once again, she was transformed into the Little Bird, willfully caged by his volition to sing her sweet songs. The crimson shade of the rope matched her flushed cheeks, as well as the stripes that streaked her buttocks and inner thighs.

With guided help from her precious red book, Hubert managed to bind her in a new position they hadn’t tried out yet.

Rather than having a mere diamond shape displayed on her tummy, the rope was looped around her waist, using the ends to meet the knot just under her stomach to form an inverted triangle. He had done something similar when binding her breasts; forming triangles around them, tight enough to make the soft flesh bulge as if he himself were groping them.

Her thighs and legs were tied together, rendering her unable to move. Not like Mercedes  _ would  _ be able to wriggle around in the first place. The magic over her was an invisible bondage, keeping her still in addition to floating.

He pondered his next course of action, unable to make the decision of whether to untie the ragged cloth around her face used as a makeshift gag or to leave it on to muffle her begging whimpers.

He opted for the former, then moved to smooth the sweaty strands of her hair away from her face.

“A sweet strawberry blonde,” Hubert murmured his thoughts, drinking in the sight of Mercedes for a brief second. The want for release that settled in her eyes was almost too intense for him to handle all at once.

It had appeared that, ever since their fuck session in the monastery, she had begun to harbor more power over him. Her Holy Ghost had possessed him.

She always did, in a way, despite her current status as a caged bird.

He placed his index finger to her lips, allowing her to give it a gentle kiss before he ghosted it straight down, the song of her raspy shudders driving him to the brink of madness. But Hubert was a patient man, and he did not want to spoil the fun quite yet.

Pausing at her throat, he traced a circle over her windpipe, slowly increasing the amount of pressure applied. He felt her swallow, the corners of his lips twitching up in amusement. He continued to drag his finger downwards, past her collarbone, stopping once he had reached the valley between her breasts.

She shuddered again, letting out a slightly louder gasp. “Your hands are so chilly!”

The smirk turned into a very wicked grin. Poor Mercedes had given him a wonderful idea. “Perhaps I may bring in some snow to dribble on your flesh? You do seem to be quickly burning up. The chill would cool you down.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Her voice was riddled with childish shock.

Hubert cupped her right breast, the magic pulling her an inch closer. “Oh, I most certainly would.”

“The snow is too soft to gather. By the time you get back, it’ll be melted away in your hand and you’ll have nothing but a puddle.”

“Then I will just have to toss you outside as you are. Problem solved.”

Mercedes wrinkled her nose. “Can you not make your own snow? Or have you not learned how to properly wield ice magic yet?” she replied gently, the smugness of her tone weaved between her words. “I can tutor you on that type of magic should you need it, since I’ve already learned it,” she added with a wry, playful smile.

He did not respond right away, giving her a warning look before he tweaked her nipple. She grimaced, biting her lower lip as she glared at him.

Inching his hand back to her bottom, he pulled his arm back to give it a hearty smack. “No more complaints out of you, pet.”

Mercedes whimpered in a way that made his mouth water, her body flinching in response. Feeling a tad remorseful, Hubert slid his hand back over her butt, moving downwards towards her slit where he traced over the outline of the rope digging between her thighs. Hopefully this would be an acceptance of his apology. The whimpering returned, her aching moans proving that it was.

“Wouldn’t you like to cool down in the snow?” Hubert cooed in her ear. “I’ll let some drip down on your cunt if you remember how to behave.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he quickened his petting, stroking over the wet mound. He lifted his finger to his lips, tongue eager to lap the taste of her.

Before she was able to properly answer, a frenzy had overtaken him. An animalistic urge to taste the honey-like juices dripping from her spun his head around. Hands groping at the plush of her thighs, he pried her legs open. His ragged breathing synced with hers. Nails dug deeper into her flesh as he plunged in between.

His lips kissing her lower pair, Hubert pushed aside the rope between her labia to lap Mercedes with his tongue.

He held back his eagerness, gritting his teeth together as he chose to resume his patience as before. Slow, painfully-teasing laps would build toward his goal of driving her further into a pleasure-filled insanity.

Hubert started on her swollen clit, putting a light amount of pressure on it before dragging his tongue downwards. Her breathing hitched, her body twitching in response. She must have not expected the intense amount of contact so soon.

Oh, his poor little bird. Always kept on her toes.

He let out a dry laugh. “Not so feisty now, are we?”

His ears picked up on whispers, but he wasn’t able to make out what she had muttered.

“Speak up, pet.”

There was a pause before she managed to reply. “...Please lick me again, Lord Vestra.”

“But  _ where _ shall I lick you? Remember that you have to be precise, or I may make the incorrect move,” he reminded her, grazing his teeth along her inner thigh.

She shuddered, hesitating over the task.

“Say the right words and you shall receive plenty.” His fingertips again stroked the redness where he had spanked her previously.

There was another pause. Thick, heavy passion had settled into the air. It was soft moments like these that seemed to swell his heart with emotion.

One of the silliest, most naive creatures he had ever come across had been reduced to mere putty in his hands. He would never tire of bearing witness to Mercedes at the brink, groveling at his feet, begging for release. The sight was enough to make him weak. He deeply enjoyed showing his affection to her in such a physical manner.

His senses were too overwhelmed with pleasure to notice that this whole…  _ thing _ , for lack of a better term, was the closest thing he had experienced to romance - love, even. His mind was too focused on this one train of thought, the last bit of sanity circling round over and over until he burst.

His eyebrows furrowed. In the distance he heard the sound of academy students rushing down the hall.  _ Perhaps it would be best to take a break until they _ -

“Please lick my cunt, Lord Vestra,” she replied in a clear, unwavering tone. Her words cut through the thickness in an harmonic tune.

Now that took him aback.

Hubert was more than happy to oblige her well-put request. Mercedes seemed unaware of, or didn’t care about, how close other students were. Then again, one of their latest rendezvous was in the monastery with the saints themselves as an audience.  _ The flower of her perversion continues to blossom _ , he thought, his bemused smile twisting into a devilish grin. He flipped her over to face the floor, making it a surprise when he would begin.

Of course Hubert would take the time to examine his meal, to play with his food a little before he devoured it. The taste of her had not left his tongue, yet it was enough for him to crave more.

Resting his hands on her thighs, he could not resist groping the meat of her thighs once more. Some primal part of his brain was satisfied each time he kneaded at her flesh, hungrily sinking his canines into her softness to enjoy her squirming. There was no explanation other than that it felt  _ good _ . It soothed him, almost.

The tip of his nose tickled her inner thighs, his breath warming her already sweltering skin. Opening his mouth, Hubert shot up his eyebrows in a taunt, his tongue lapping at sweat drops near her trembling mess before he returned to her clit.

Her body tensed up in anticipation, squirming from sensory overload. Her gasps were strained. It might have been better to gag her mouth, but he savored the little noises she made. It was music to his ears, and a sign that he was actually doing something right.

A sudden click perked up his ears. He almost didn’t notice it if it wasn’t the realization that the knob of his bedroom door was opening.

“Heeeey, Hubert!”

_ Oh Goddess _ .

_ He forgot to lock the door. _

_ He completely forgot to lock the fucking door _ .

Hubert went into panic mode, doing whatever he could to hide his lover.

A surge of magic pulsed through his arm, the faint blue aura glowing brighter. Mercedes suddenly shot up towards his ceiling with a tiny gasp as he rushed towards the door. He held the door still with his foot, preventing Caspar from entering his dorm any further.

All his numbskull housemate could see was Hubert, with a sliver of a gap that showed a narrow peek into his room. Temptation fueled the impulse to simply slam the door and ignore him. That would solve the problem. Sadly, he couldn’t afford that. He was sure he looked like a mess and was hiding something from his housemate.

His teeth bared, Hubert somehow managed to force out words without sounding too murderous. “ _ What the hell do you want _ ?”

Caspar raised up his hands, taking a small step backwards. “Whoa, Hubert - _ calm down _ ! What’s your problem?”

“Problem?!” He lowered his voice after taking a moment to regain composure. “You dare to waltz into my dorm without a single care in the world and you ask me if that is a problem? It would be generous to call you a blundering idiot.”

“My bad,” he responded, his tone far more flippant than apologetic. “I wanted to talk to you about something, but I can come back later. You seem to be pretty busy.”

It would be better for Hubert to deal with Caspar now than later. He let out an exasperated sigh, leaning slightly on the door. “Don’t leave. Just spit out what you want to tell me.”

“Are you sure? You aren’t gonna try to strangle me?”

“If I intended to do so, I would have by now. Now please, enlighten me with your troubles so great that you had to drag me into them.”

“What _ are  _ you doing?” Caspar’s gaze dropped to his arm, glowing brighter than it had before. The magic throbbed like a silent heartbeat. Hubert even found himself in awe at how powerful it had gotten, probably due to his emotions.

“Experimenting with spells.” The lie rolled off his tongue with ease.

“I’ve never seen a spell like that before.”

“Perhaps if you picked up a book, you might find that magic exists in many different forms.”

“Just don’t get yourself blown up!” Caspar cracked up at his own joke, oblivious to Hubert’s scorn.

He was at his limit. The frustration (among other things) was unbearable. He never allowed himself to be this impatient, but this  _ mongrel  _ was pushing all the wrong buttons. Worse of all, he had no idea how long Mercedes would be able to stay afloat, hovering around on his ceiling. At any moment he could lose concentration and she would fall to the floor right in front of them.

“If you aren’t going to explain what you want with me this second, I will allow you to volunteer as a guinea pig for this spell. I will shoot you down as you charge at it with one of your battle cries. Would you care for that, Caspar?”

“....I don’t even know how to respond to that, but fine. Whatever. Sorry for wasting your time.” He pulled out an envelope marked with the wax seal of the Adrestian Empire. “Edelgard told me to give this to you.”

Hubert snatched it out of his grasp, hardly looking at it. “Thanks. Is that all?”

“She wants you to reply to it as soon as possible. So, yeah, my job as mail-boy is done. I’m gonna go train, so I’ll leave you to... whatever you’re doing.” On that note, Caspar turned back to the hallway, leaving a scattered Hubert behind.

It was sheer luck that everything turned out fine. Whatever prevented them from being seen having sex in the monastery had remained close to them.

The door closed, locked tight this time. The letter he tucked away in his trouser pockets, to be read later.

Hubert’s knees felt like they had turned to marmalade, yet he managed to drag himself away from the door. Dread continued to gnaw at his stomach. He was  _ this  _ close to shattering everything.

“Hubert? Is it alright for me to come down now?”

He didn’t respond, only giving her a nod in response. He barely had the energy to stand. All of it had been sucked out of him completely in his fit of rage. Raising his arms, the glowing aura that surrounded his left hand disappeared. A yelp from Mercedes, and then she was safe in his arms. She was bewildered just as much as he, and just as amazed that Caspar hadn’t noticed.

He held her, lowering himself to rest on the floor, still cradling her in a bridal carry. A hand ran through his hair, nails scratching the back of his head. She must have managed to escape her binding, not that it mattered much to him at that point.

“Would you like me to make you some tea?” Her sweet voice instantly soothed his nerves.

“I think I would like that, thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was just sitting in my google docs, tempting me to be published. I heeded it's call and currently am in the midst of the first chapter. 
> 
> Do not worry, I will feed you all.


End file.
